While parties are one of the many peaks in teen fiction drama, the after can be said to be quite the opposite. Unless the main character wakes up in a stranger's bed— more characteristic of new adult novels than teen fiction— the author usually skips the following morning.
Which means that right now, I have the freedom to recuperate after last night's events— or, I would've, if not for the stupid mandatory institution called school.
Dark and early at 6:30 am, my alarm rings and jolts me from my sleep. I groan the entire time I get ready, cursing out the author in my head for writing a party the night of the first day of school. Stupid author.
After I finally make it to the bottom of the stairs, I pause. Brie, who had slept over last night, is chatting quietly with Mom— meaning it's either going well, or going terribly. With Mom, I can never tell.
"Iris and my relationship is a bit..." Brie sucks in a breath, grimacing, ".... complicated."
"Are you her girlfriend?" Mom asks bluntly, narrowing her eyes.
"Mom, no," I interrupt before this misunderstanding can blow entirely out of proportion. "We aren't together. Although, it would be ironic if we were, and I still had a bunch of love interests fawning over me," I comment, chuckling at the thought.
"Fanfiction AU?" Brie suggests, grinning playfully.
Write that down, readers.
As I rummage through the cabinets for a bowl and a spoon, I glance at Brie. Even though she isn't the least bit hungover— one of the benefits of being in a fictional world— she doesn't seem to remember anything that happened last night, either. I slowly take the seat next to her, carefully deciding upon how to approach the topic.
In the end, I choose to do what I usually do— blurt everything out.
"Brie, you know Evan, the Bad Boy, right?" I ask as I pour cereal, then milk into my bowl. "Yeah, he's aware. So, I guess last night wasn't a complete waste?"
"He's aware?" She repeats in shock.
"Definitely. He doesn't like me. He does seem to like you, though," I suggest less-than-subtly, nudging her with my elbow. "What's up with that?"
"Oh, that's nothing." Brie chuckles with a reminiscent gleam shining in her eyes. "I think I've told you before, but Brandon, Evan, and I have been best friends for years."
"Best friends? Or love triangle?" I tease.
"Definitely best friends. I'm with Brandon, remember?" Brie says.
"Quarterback, right?" I ask to clarify, my mind still unfamiliar with all the names thrown at me in one day. Brie nods. "We still have to make him aware. Let's focus on doing that whenever we have scenes together."
"About that..." Brie trails off, pursing her lips. "I don't think I have control of myself in some scenes."
I frown. "Don't have control? What do you mean? You're aware."
"I don't know. Sometimes, even if my mind is Brie, my body is the Mean Girl's. It's like the author still has control over me," Brie explains dejectedly. "So I don't think I can help you out in those situations. I'll definitely try my hardest, though."
"That's so strange. Mom and Jasmine never had a hard time with that."
"Jasmine and I have no scenes," Mom interjects. "Of course the author can't control us."
I let out an annoyed breath. It's too early for me to deal with all the technicalities of the fictional world right now— why does the author have to make everything so complicated?
YOU ARE READING
Cliché
Romance❝bind me in endless skies and lovely lies. ❞ Iris Lockhart is your average girl who wants to go through her senior year with her head down to escape. Not her dark past. How cliché would that be? She wants to escape you. The reader. Join Iris while s...
